


Unruhe

by owlettica



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Attempted Murder, Barebacking, Blood Kink, Dirty Dream, Dream Sex, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Guilty Conscience, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Melancholy, Memories, Nostalgia, Pining, Post-Betrayal, Regret, Smut, Zsaszlepot, dream - Freeform, gotham smut, pepperoni pizza - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 03:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13091460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlettica/pseuds/owlettica
Summary: Zsasz finds himself plagued by memories after returning to the Falcone family.This fic takes place after ep 4x11, “Queen Takes Knight”.You know the drill: I’ve no Gotham or FOX association. Please don’t sue me. I have no money.





	Unruhe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eller/gifts), [Filthycasual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filthycasual/gifts), [inappropriatefangirlneeds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inappropriatefangirlneeds/gifts).



Zsasz dismounts his Victory Octane and removes his helmet. He leaves it with the bike before entering the Falcone estate. The full moon illuminates his way.

Once inside, he confidently navigates darkened corridors. Even during the day, the dark wood of the sumptuous home absorbs most of the light, but he requires none. He’s well-versed with the dwelling having spent years serving Don Carmine Falcone.

Although the habitation was unchanged, it didn’t feel the same —not even close. Not long ago, he knelt before the heir apparent, Donna Sofia Falcone, in a sign of deference to kiss the ring.

_“End of the day, he’s a Cobblepot. You’re a Falcone.”_

Don Falcone returned to Gotham not even two weeks ago. He met with Penguin and ordered his daughter, Sofia, to abandon her efforts to claim the city. He was primed to officially declare the metropolis was Cobblepot’s.

That’s not how things went down. No one imagined Sofia would assume control of Gotham City (and so quickly). The mob boss was gunned down on the estate grounds not long after the assemblage.

_If I’d only been there, the old man would still be alive._

The assassin’s facial muscles retract and jaw clenches when he remembers Falcone in his casket. He swallows down the bile rising in his throat.

-

Zsasz had looked forward to the man’s return. Carmine Falcone was the embodiment of traditional mafia power and authority. He ran Gotham for decades prior to his departure when Penguin first took the city.

Victor had a deep, abiding respect for the mob boss. He was an accomplished leader who commanded respect. When he ran Gotham, the metropolis flourished. There was order.

The crime lord resorted to violence only when necessary. During those times, he turned to Zsasz. Falcone was a masterful strategist. Zsasz was his ferocious warrior. The Don provided his enforcer ample opportunity to fully realize and perfect his lethal skill set. He trusted Victor to do his job, but reined him in when required. (Even Zsasz acknowledged that was sometimes necessary.)

Despite his stature, Falcone always treated Zsasz (and everyone) with the utmost respect —until they proved undeserving of it. He taught Victor to separate personal feelings from business matters. The mob boss instilled in him the value of professionalism, mastery of one’s skills and the importance of one’s word.

Victor strove hard to meet the great man’s standards. In doing so, Zsasz developed a reputation for being the best and attributed his success to the mob boss. He felt tremendous pride when the Don recognized and commended his efforts.

Falcone never reprimanded in a condescending or disrespectful way. He never questioned Victor or his ability. He was as calm and unruffled as Penguin was bombastic and volatile.

_Penguin._

_-_

Zsasz heads for the study to meet Donna Falcone. It’s the same one where her father once deliberated over whether he should leave Gotham with Liza once they freed her from her “captors”.

_“Sir. Let me go to work.”_

_“No. If Fish and the others (and there must be others) want me to step away so badly, maybe it’s time. Why not? Why am I still fighting? For what?”_

_“For respect. You’re Don Carmine Falcone.”_

_“Respect? Who cares? They all want me to live in the country with Liza. I would like that.”_

Falcone fingered a carnation as he ruminated.

_“That’s what I want, too. So why not do it?”_

_“Please. Don’t talk that way. And just me on my own? I can take out Fish’s crew —easy.”_

_“You’re not listening, Victor. Your job is to keep me and Liza safe through the coming transaction. That’s all.”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

But Falcone didn’t leave with Liza. Penguin arrived later that night and revealed that Liza belonged to Fish. When Victor sighs at the memory, he hears the Don’s voice.

_“Hush, young man. I can hear you sigh.”_

_“Sorry, sir.”_

It angered Zsasz that Penguin arrived so late to Falcone’s summons. He eyeballed the busted-up man until the Don ordered him to _“let him be”._

Victor stood behind Don Falcone while Penguin knelt before the mob boss. He greeted his informant warmly.

_“Good to see you, old friend.”_

Penguin went on to reveal the ugly truth of who Liza really was.

_“She belongs to Fish. This was a setup from the start. She found a girl that looked just like your mother and trained her up to...”_

Don Falcone backhanded Penguin. The mob boss didn’t believe it until he confirmed the truth later that night. Despite the fact the old man loved Liza, he didn’t hesitate to kill her after discovering she was Fish’s.

Falcone choked the life out of the girl. Victor recalls the sound Liza’s body made when she fell to the floor and how her scarf fell limp in the Don’s hand. Zsasz can still see him remove the carnation from his lapel to kiss before dropping it beside her lifeless body. The finality of the act had a haunting beauty.

-

Victor arrives at the study. Despite knowing the Don is gone, he still expects to see the back of the man’s bald head in the leather chair. Instead, he finds Sofia’s black hair.

She greets him without turning around.

“Good evening, Victor.”

He quickly makes his way around the leather chair. When Victor turns to face her, he’s struck by her apparel. She’s wearing her grey pinstriped suit and red leather gloves. They remind him of Penguin. If that weren’t enough, her hair’s twisted back and she’s wearing an elaborate tie around her neck.

The pang in his gut surprises him, but he doesn’t show it. He’s there to work. He subtly bows his head and respectfully returns her greeting.

“Donna Falcone.”

Sofia sits regally. She exudes the same decorum her late father did. She conducts herself like she no longer needs to prove herself.

Zsasz hoped when he reported to her this evening she might have orders requiring his specialized skill set. However, given Penguin was in Arkham and Jim Gordon was in her pocket, the streets of Gotham were uncharacteristically quiet.

Instead, the Donna informs Zsasz that Barbara Kean returned to her former club, Sirens (better known by its most recent incarnation, the Iceberg Lounge). Sofia Falcone knew Kean was well-versed with the club scene (and the club itself), but wanted to ensure its success and demonstrate her support of the business woman.

She instructs him to report to Ms. Kean the following day to fully appraise her of the Iceberg Lounge’s operations, vendors, and security protocols as a sign of good faith and to ensure a smooth transition.

“Anything else, Donna Falcone?”

“No, Victor. That will be all.”

Victor nods and starts to leave, but she stops him.

“Victor. Before you go, I wanted to take a moment to tell you how delighted I am that you’ve returned to the family. I know my father meant a great deal to you. He also thought very highly of you. He spoke of you often.”

Although he appears impassive, her words fill the mercenary with melancholy and nostalgia. She continues.

“Had Penguin not had him killed, he would still be with us today.”

Victor’s jaw clenches. His dark orbs remain expressionless as she continues.

“Oswald is currently out of our reach. When the time comes, I know I can count on you to do what is necessary, just as my father did. I have every confidence you will avenge my father’s death.”

Victor replies with chilling menace.

“I promise you, Donna Falcone, that I will not rest until I put your father’s killer in the ground. You have my word.”

“I know you won’t. Goodnight, Victor.”

—

Victor has his own quarters on the estate, but he returns to his place in the city. He hopes the ride will clear his head. As the world whizzes by him, he recalls confronting Penguin about Falcone’s death before his funeral.

_“You would’ve told me right? If you were gonna ice the old man?”_

Oswald bristled at the question.

_“Obviously! Victor, I did not kill Don Falcone.”_

_“Well everyone on the street thinks you did.”_

_“So let them! My hands are clean. You have my word!”_

Victor’s not sure what bothers him most about the exchange, but it rankles him. He broods over the contemptuous way the kingpin threw up his hands, scoffed at the question and the dismissive way he gave his word. He tries to decipher non-verbal clues and hidden meaning in Oswald’s words and gestures. Penguin’s disrespect vexes him.

When he arrives to his place, Victor parks and walks down the block to Frankie’s for a slice. He has a bottle of Devil’s Backbone while he waits for his pepperoni pizza. He usually avoids drinking because it dulls his senses and slows his reflexes, but he welcomes the distraction tonight. He eats a couple of slices there and takes the rest home.

He deactivates a booby trap before entering. He tosses his keys on the table, sets down his helmet and heads for the kitchen. He places the pizza box on the stove and reaches in for another slice. He shoves a huge bite in his mouth with one hand and opens the fridge for a second bottle of his favorite spicy ale with the other. The cap bounces on the counter and bottle fizzes after he opens it.

He takes another bite and raises the bottle for a few gulps. He grabs the box, heads for the couch and plops himself down, tossing the pizza box on the coffee table. He puts his feet up, crossing his legs at the ankles.

Zsasz thinks about his assignment to meet with Kean. He has mixed feelings about returning to the place where he turned on Penguin.

When Victor first reached out to Sofia Falcone after the funeral, he revealed Penguin’s slight of hand and his order to hide the kid. She informed Zsasz that Gordon would come after Cobblepot for the murder, so he knew what was coming. What he wasn’t prepared for was how quickly it all happened —or the feeling that accompanied it.

_“What’s to tell? You blew that kid sky high.”_

_“What?”_

_“You sent that pipsqueak to kingdom come.”_

_“No. That’s not true.”_

_“And I’ll testify to that.”_

_“What?”_

_“Look, I ain’t takin’ the rap for no kid murder.”_

_“NO!”_

Zsasz remembers the shock and confusion in Penguin’s eyes before turning wrathful. When he lunged at Zsasz, Gordon pulled him away. Oswald’s angry words still stung.

_“You are a liar! You are a lying traitor! Victor Zsasz is a liar! NO! I will KILL you!”_

Oswald was no more out the door before Gordon started in on him.

_“Victor, this doesn’t give you a pass you know.”_

_“Jim. Not now.”_

The guilt hits him hard. Victor furrows his brow, screws up his mouth and looks away. He gulps down the rest of his brew.

When he finishes it, he looks down at the pizza box and realizes he’s lost his appetite. He picks it up, walks it to the fridge and grabs another cold one. He leans on the stove as he opens it and immediately begins guzzling.

Zsasz tries thinking of better times, but always circles back to Oswald. Over the past few years, the man Falcone once called a “freakish little man” grew to become a powerful force in Gotham’s underworld and beyond. As a result, the kingpin became a common fixture in the henchman’s professional life.

The man who once trembled in fear of Zsasz’s newly-conditioned Gilzean grew to become a ruthless kingpin who cowered before no one. If that weren’t impressive enough, he even managed to clinch Gotham’s mayorship. Victor raises one side of his mouth, shakes his head and puffs out a small incredulous laugh at the thought.

His mind drifts to the time Edward Nygma (formerly Oswald’s chief of staff) informed him that Gilzean orchestrated all the Red Hood Gang activity that took place after Penguin took office. Nygma required Victor’s assistance in springing the trap that would reveal Butch’s machinations.

He closes his eyes and conjures the memory of the newly-elected mayor when he took the stage at Sirens. Oswald looked so fetching, Zsasz became distracted as he held his gun on Gilzean.

[Zsasz turned to nod at Nygma over the ruse’s success, but soon found himself captivated by the sight of Oswald. His hair perfectly framed his face and he wore that rich blue suit with the tails. His waistcoat accentuated the color of his eyes](https://filthycasualfanfic.tumblr.com/post/171662883468/please-reblog-and-not-repost-one-and-only-freebie).

Before Victor realized it, the bruiser got the jump on him and threw him over the bar when Tabitha escaped and stormed in. Penguin was the one who ultimately subdued Gilzean when he attempted to strangle Nygma over the double cross.

He rubs his hand down his face and shakes off the memory. He chugs down the rest of his brew.

-

Victor attempts to distract himself. He lifts weights, does push ups, pull ups and sit-ups. He checks his sizable arsenal and inventories ammunition. He sharpens blades, inspects weapons and cleans his guns.

His efforts manage to work for awhile until he happens upon the rocket launcher he took from Kean when he, Oswald and Ivy visited her new establishment. Memories of Oswald plague him at every turn.

Victor’s finally had enough. He decides to call it a night. Before doing so, he hits the head to relieve himself given all the beer.

Zsasz prepares the weapons hidden around his bedroom and bathroom before undressing. He looks in the mirror and casually studies a recent red tally mark on his right anterior deltoid that still weeps plasma before he showers.

During times of war, it isn’t uncommon for him to completely dress (up to and including his holsters, weapons and boots) and sleep atop his bed. Given the current state of affairs, he feels comfortable climbing into bed nude and sleeping under the covers. Zsasz stares into the dark for the longest, but eventually drifts to sleep and dreams.

—

In his dream, he strides into Oswald’s office. The hour is late and the room is awash in blue. The full moon looms large outside. The curtains and decor are gone. All the furnishings are covered. He finds Penguin in his grey pinstriped suit looking pensively out his window overlooking Gotham.

“Boss. It’s done. I took the kid…”

Penguin raises his hand and shakes his head to stop Victor from continuing further. He doesn’t turn to face him.

“Thank you, Victor.”

Zsasz watches Penguin furrow his brow and wipe his eyes. He pretends not to notice. Instead, he waits silently before suddenly remembering Donna Falcone’s order to take the man out.

He doesn’t pull a gun like he customarily does with most hits. Instead, he slowly draws a blade with his left hand and silently prowls behind the kingpin who breaks the silence with a sigh.

“I want to forget. I want to forget all of it.”

Victor moves in close behind Penguin. He snakes his right hand around the smaller man, grasping his forehead and pulling him flush against his body. He tilts Oswald’s head to the right and presses it against his chest, revealing his throat. His well-practiced hand quickly raises the blade directly at Oswald’s carotid artery on the exposed side.

Victor knows it isn’t the most efficient way to slit Penguin’s throat. He has to puncture it, navigating the anterior neck muscles. Zsasz doesn’t care. He wants the act to be intimate.

The pugnacious kingpin neither fights nor shows fear. Instead, he tilts his head further and willingly offers his neck. He looks up at the assassin the best he can and speaks with resolute finality.

“Go ahead, Victor. Do your job.”

Zsasz looks down at Oswald’s neck and slowly pushes the blade in. He watches the tip break the surface of Penguin’s skin and barely sink past, spilling a blood trail down his neck that looks black in the moonlight. The blood gathers and spreads on Oswald’s collar.

He turns to look at Penguin, who demonstrates an uncharacteristic acquiescence that surprises him. Zsasz regards the smaller man and retracts his facial muscles, then withdraws his blade to sheathe it. As he does, he torques Oswald’s neck further.

Once his blade is sheathed, Victor lowers his head to Penguin’s throat and captures it with his open mouth. Zsasz then opens wider to take in more of it, moaning at the taste. He flicks his tongue at the blood trail and rakes his teeth across Oswald’s neck.

Oswald’s soft gasps and quickening pulse stir Zsasz. His left hand reaches to remove Oswald’s tie and drop it to the floor. He unbuttons Penguin’s shirt to the point of his waistcoat.

He releases Oswald’s forehead and slowly descends to stroke the side of his face with his knuckles. Zsasz slides his fingers beneath his jaw, rubs his thumb across Oswald’s mouth and catches his lower lip. Penguin opens slightly.

Victor slides his thumb into the man’s mouth and drags the pad of his thumb across his lower teeth, paying special attention to the canine. He ventures further to explore the moist heat of Oswald’s mouth. Penguin rolls the digit between his teeth, licks at it and sucks. The smaller man presses his body closer against him.

Zsasz takes his other hand and reaches inside Oswald’s shirt. He snakes beneath his waistcoat and suspenders to traverse his chest and fondle the taut skin of his nipple. After exploring the tiny peak with each of his finger pads, he removes his hand from his shirt and descends past Penguin’s abdominals to palm him through his pants.

Penguin shudders as Victor takes as much of his length as he can through his trousers. Zsasz moans when he discovers him hard. The assassin presses the hollow and butt of his palm against Oswald’s length, then feels the kingpin reach behind to run his hand up his thigh and groin.

Once Oswald’s hand reaches Victor’s stirring length, his self-control crumbles. He impatiently claws off Oswald’s suit jacket and tosses it aside. Zsasz grabs his shoulders and spins him around. Penguin gapes up at him, panting heavily with eyes rapidly tracking back and forth. His mouth is upturned and slightly open —lips thick with desire. Victor ensnares them with his own and plunges deeply into his mouth, knocking their teeth together.

When Zsasz feels the tug of Penguin impatiently unbuttoning his shirt, he shrugs out of his shoulder holster and jacket, tossing them on a nearby chair. He yanks his shirt out of his pants and quickly unbuttons his cuffs. Oswald barely finishes unbuttoning him before he rips off his shirt and tosses it aside.

Victor pulls his mouth away and tends to Oswald’s waistcoat and shirt. The kingpin unfastens his cuffs as he does. Zsasz hungrily reaches beneath the shoulders of Oswald’s clothing to explore his waiting flesh. He impatiently jerks off his waistcoat, suspenders and shirt and tosses them to floor in a heap.

With the barriers between them gone, Zsasz pulls Penguin in for a bruising kiss. As his tongue probes deeper into his mouth, Victor’s hand descends to tug open the smaller man’s trousers and reach inside. He takes Oswald’s length in his hand and glides his thumb across its weeping tip. His hand descends further down to the base of it. He grasps it firmly and lightly tugs from side to side. Both men moan into the mouth of the other.

Victor pulls away and squats down to hoist Oswald up and carry him to his desk. After he sets him atop it, Penguin watches Victor unbuckle his belt and unfasten his own pants before reaching for his.

Oswald leans back and lifts his haunches in response to Zsasz’s tug, revealing his throbbing erection. The assassin leans down and hungrily takes Penguin deeply into his mouth, melting at the taste. Oswald moans as Victor bobs, sucks and reaches beneath his haunches to swallow him deeper. When Oswald begins pumping in earnest, Zsasz unlatches and quickly removes Oswald’s wingtips so he can remove his trousers altogether.

When Victor rises, he reaches into his pants and releases his swollen cock. Penguin moans at the sight. Zsasz is entranced by Oswald bathed in blue light while he approaches the desk and reaches under the smaller man’s thighs to pull him close. He takes both their erections in his hand, stroking them in tandem and reaches behind Penguin’s neck. He presses their foreheads together before reaching into a pocket for lube.

Zsasz coats his fingers and coaxes Oswald back on the desk. Penguin lifts his legs and hooks his feet around Victor’s hips encouraging the man to finger him. Victor leans in and slides in a digit. The constricting muscles send a jolt up his shaft, spurring him on until he can slide in a second. He strokes and massages deeply, relishing the sights and sounds of Oswald’s responsiveness.

By the time Zsasz can comfortably slide a third digit in and out of Penguin, he’s half mad with desire. He briefly considers adding a fourth, but can’t bear the wait any longer. He impatiently removes his fingers to lube himself, shuddering as he handles his painfully engorged erection.

He greedily reaches under Oswald’s haunches and positions himself at his entrance. The slack-jawed man below him returns his gaze and nods eagerly.

When Zsasz breaches Penguin, it’s sublime. He loses himself as his sensitive tip drags along Oswald’s tight warm corridor. He continues until he fills him to the hilt. A small grunt escapes him as he tries pushing in even further. He then slowly pulls out until he feels his tip catch at Oswald’s entryway. Victor rhythmically repeats the action, lost in every push and pull -savoring the way Oswald’s constricting muscles ensnare him.

Victor’s brow softens and mouth opens at the sight of Oswald lost in pleasure and touching himself. Zsasz continues pumping him, forfeit in the exquisite motion. When he feels his tempo get away from him, he coaxes Oswald’s hand away and replaces it with his own. Zsasz mimics Penguin’s movements and synchronizes them with his rhythm.

Zsasz is soon overcome by the feeling welling inside him. His thrusts grow more frenzied until he finally plunges deeply into Oswald, erupting into the man with a roar. He continues tossing Oswald in earnest who quakes soon after, crying out and pouring abundantly.

After their breathing slows and a hush settles over them, Zsasz looks down to find a fresh tear spilling down Oswald’s cheek. When the smaller man catches the assassin’s gaze, he covers his eyes with his forearm and shakes his head side to side.

Zsasz removes his hand from Oswald and carefully pulls out. He reaches down and takes hold of the arm Penguin uses to obscure his face and pulls him up. Zsasz collects the smaller man’s legs with his other arm and lifts him.

He heads for Penguin’s covered throne and settles into it. Oswald wraps his arms around Zsasz’s neck and buries his face in it. The hitman’s brow furrows when he hears Penguin stifle a sob.

Victor’s not sure what he’s feeling, but it’s new to him. He slowly wraps his arms around Oswald, closes his eyes and tenderly kisses the top of his head.

-

Zsasz opens his eyes and discovers it’s dawn.

It occurs to him he also wants to forget.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this fic was kinda therapeutic for me, ‘cause this Zsaszlepot shipper’s been dazed since Gotham 4x11. Roehrborn’s lovely “Hiding Place for Weary Men” fic gave me the idea to write for therapy.
> 
> The greatest inspiration for this fic came from my discussions with with filthycasualfanfic and inappropriatefangirlneeds regarding Zsasz’s motivation to betray Penguin and return to the Falcone family. The more I ruminate over it, I’m inclined to think it was largely due to his Falcone family loyalty, seeing the writing on the wall and self-preservation. 
> 
> Oh, and YOU GUYS! filthycasualfanfic flippin' illustrated some of these scenes! I'm so verklempt about it. I've imbedded links so you can see her amazing art. Please stop by and tell her how awesome she is! I LOVE YOU, SISTAH! *SQUEE!*
> 
> Victor’s motorcycle is a nod to one of my favorite Zsaszlepot fics, “Nostalghia” by Eller, and no I couldn't resist using that particular motorcycle for obvious reasons. (I'm so transparent.)
> 
> The title? Unruhe is German for “unrest” or “restlessness” (and also the title for one of my all-time favorite X-Files eps). I found it fitting given Zsasz’s visible grief and inner turmoil over Carmine’s death —not to mention after turning on Penguin at the Iceberg Lounge.
> 
> Some of y’all know my compulsion to pair my fics with tunes. Apparently, my Zsaszlepot soundtrack is limited to Joy Division, so why break with tradition? I’m thinking [“Day of the Lords”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64x_RCArfjU). 
> 
> “This is the room, the start of it all,  
> No portrait so fine, only sheets on the wall,  
> I've seen the nights, filled with bloodsport and pain,  
> And the bodies obtained, the bodies obtained.
> 
> Where will it end? Where will it end?”
> 
> (If there are any other JD fans out there, I confess this decision was tough. I really wrestled between “DotL”, “Candidate” and “Passover” for reasons I don’t have to explain to you.)
> 
> And lastly, if ANY of you made it to the bottom of the page, I had no beta reader. Any mistakes are my own. Please don’t hesitate to inform me of any errors requiring my attention. Y’all are the best! Thanks!


End file.
